


Eternal Darkness

by fishcatfishcat



Category: American Horror Story, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2017-12-25 04:06:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishcatfishcat/pseuds/fishcatfishcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This occurs after the events in American Horror Story episode 'Home Invasion'. After seeing news reports of the home invasion of Vivien and Violet Harmon where the intruders vanished into thin air, Sam and Dean Winchester go to LA to check it out. Dean doesn't think there is anything supernatural going on but Sam can't shake the feeling that Vivien and her husband are hiding something. Unforeseen circumstances keep the brothers in LA for longer than they had planned and as Sam digs deeper could the Murder House be pulling a tighter grip on him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winchesters meet the murder house

**Author's Note:**

> This is Sam-centric because I think he gets missed out a lot. I'll be sticking to the canon so if they seem OOC then that's just my interpretation of them. I will be adding more characters from AHS as the chapters progress and maybe some SPN characters if it fits the story. I won't update on a specific schedule but it will probably be weekly, if I get good feedback I'll be more motivated to writing and updating frequently. So yeah, enjoy and tell me what you think.

"Dean, check this out," said Sam Winchester from behind his laptop to his brother who was sitting at the other end of the motel room, "a woman and her daughter were attacked in their house last night by a woman posing as the victim of a mugging. She had two others helping her and after tying up both women, the intruders supposedly vanished, except one who was found halfway down the street almost cut in half."

"The mom did it." said Dean, itching to get out of the Nevada heat. The job they had just worked went down without a hitch but Dean's "whining like a bitch" was driving Sam nuts. 

"Well, in 1968 the same thing happened, the assailant posed as a victim of a mugging to get into the house, then once inside he murdered the two women who were home that night. Which is basically what happened last night except there were three of them and the women survived." Sam explained. 

"In the same house? Perhaps it's a psycho copycat killer." Dean suggested. 

"I guess so, but something just seems..."

"Spidey sense tingling?" Dean joked.

"I just think it's worth checking out, that's all. I mean, the house has a violent past, lots of disappearances, it's even a stop on the Eternal Darkness Tour" Sam laughed, but Dean didn't need convincing. He saw that look on Sam's face as he scrolled through old news reports, so he let him keep going. 

\---

Dean killed the engine of the impala as Sam looked out the window. Nothing looked off about the place, then again nothing usually does. He looked through the fake ID's in the glove box and got out his FBI badge.

Sam looked at the house and was drawn to the yard that could be a nice space on a sunny day like this. The shade would balance perfectly with the light breeze. Soon he was already strolling down the path and was under the porch. He took in the yard again. It would be perfect for a family. He could imagine a child playing fetch with the family dog. The father washing the car, playfully splashing his child as he ran across the grass, the mother who would be lying on a lounger with her nose in a novel. His thoughts were interrupted by Dean's knuckles rapping the door.

"Yes?" said the young woman who answered. Her hair was as red as hell and Sam was taken aback by her skimpy French maid uniform, complete with fishnet stockings and suspenders. He'd seen strippers wearing more. 

"I'm special agent Parsons, this is special agent Southfield, do you mind if we come in?" Sam asked, holding up his badge, nudging Dean to hold his up too. 

"Of course, I didn't know the FBI was involved." she said in a silky voice, opening the door wider and beckoning them in. She sashayed down the hall, Dean widened his eyes, a look Sam had never seen after Dean had laid eyes on a woman. 

They followed her down the hall, sunlight gleaming off the polished wooden panels and Tiffany glass, to the kitchen where a woman and her husband sat. On the opposite side of the counter sat a detective who turned around when he noticed he no longer had their attention. 

"These agents are here to see you, sir," the maid said, putting emphasis on 'sir'. The man, presumably the husband who was away during the time of the invasion, according to the news report, frowned at her then looked to the two agents. 

"Special agent Parsons, special agent Southfield," Sam said as both he and his brother showed their badges.

"I didn't realize this was a federal investigation," the detective said, before Mr Harmon could reply, as he slid his stool back.

"We were in the area and thought we'd offer our services," Dean said flashing a grin to both the maid and Mrs Harmon, then at the detective who was now standing. 

"I think I've got all I need anyway so you can take it from here," the detective said, looking eager to be seen out by the maid. After he left the room and the closing of the front door could be heard, Sam took the empty stool, placing his badge on the kitchen counter, preparing his compassionate voice while Dean lingered in the hallway.

"So, Mrs Harmon, could you just go over what happened for me?" Sam asked softly as he listened to the tired woman retell her story. He expected her to sound scared or nervous, him being well equipped at dealing with trauma survivors while managing to get to the facts, but the way she told her story, the way she simply didn't know what happened to the intruders only gave Sam more reason to suspect something else was going on. He tried asking the usual: cold spots, lights flickering, rattling in the walls, the smell of sulphur, etc. All of which she said she hadn't encountered. Out of the corner of his eye Sam could see Mr Harmon's brows furrowing at him. 

"Can you wrap this up pretty soon? My wife's been through a lot and I think it's best she got some rest," Mr Harmon interjected, sounding more aggressive than he probably intended.

"Of course, I'm nearly done," Sam said, who had actually run out of questions to ask but still felt in his gut that there was something he was missing. His head shot up and he looked directly into Mr Harmon eyes and watched as his face froze "where were you at the time, Mr Harmon?"

"Ben was out of town, one of his former patients had a relapse so he flew out to Boston to help her recover," Mrs Harmon said after giving him sufficient time to talk for himself. The word 'her' jumped out at Sam and apparently it did to Mr Harmon too, his jaw clenched for half a second when she uttered the syllable.

"You're a psychiatrist?" Sam asked, phrasing it like an accusation and Mr Harmon looked like he had just received one.

"Yes, I am, is it relevant?" He asked back.

"If I've learned anything it's that nothing is irrelevant. I'm just wondering why you would move all the way to Los Angeles knowing you have an unstable patient on the other side of the country," Sam mused, "but I'm sure you had your reasons." Sam added with a smile.

"I didn't terminate any of my patients sessions if that's what you're implying, now is that all?" Mr Harmon hissed. 

"Yes, thank you," Sam said, pushing the corners of his lips wider, "here's my card if you remember anything, anything at all." he pulled a card from his breast pocket and deliberately handed it to Mrs Harmon, who seemed awfully quiet. 

Sam walked down the hallway and peered into the living room for Dean, who wasn't there. He looked back over his shoulder to the kitchen and reflected in the glass cabinet he saw the Harmons in a heated talk on the other side of the room. He gingerly stood on the bottom step, then on the next and after hearing only their muffled fighting, he climbed to the top. 

"Dean?" He said in a hushed voice, placing one foot in front of the other as he stalked down the hallway. He tapped on one of the doors, waited and got no answer. He continued down the hall, to the window where he found himself looking at the yard again. Dammit Sam it's only a yard, he thought, when a figure in the corner caught his eye. A girl, probably a teenager or young adult, was standing beneath the shade of a tree. The swaying leaves made spots of dark and light dance around her floral dress. She noticed Sam looking down at her and held her stare as she mouthed some words he couldn't read or hear.

"What are you doing?" asked a voice behind Sam, making him jump. When Sam turned around he saw a girl, definitely a teenager this time, stand in the doorway to what he presumed was her room, the brim of her hat circled her head like a black halo. 

"Sorry, I'm special agent Parsons with the FBI," Sam said, straightening up.

"Yeah I figured. I meant what are you doing up here?" she asked, testily. 

"Oh, yeah..." Sam said before remembering he had a legitimate reason to be looking through the house, "My partner, has he spoken to you?" 

"No, but I heard a door closing up here a minute ago," she said looking at the door nearest the window at the end of the hall. 

"Thanks," Sam said, to which she went back into her room without giving him time to ask her about the home invasion. 

Sam walked to the door, knocked hard on the wood and opened it, calling Dean as he peered into the room. He was inside before Dean could tell him to stop. Sam froze still when he saw Dean's back to him, the young maid on her knees with her head blocked from Sam's view by Dean's body. Her hands firmly grasped his hips, while his hand rested on her flaming head, illuminated by the sunlight pouring through the window.

"Dean, get out here now!" Sam ordered in an infuriated tone after backing out the door as fast as he could. Seconds later he walked out the door with a smug smile on his face, Sam's look of thunder didn't falter. He strode down the hall in swift steps, Dean tailing behind him.

Sam turned the corner, not expecting to crash into the person reaching the top step, just as Vivien didn't expect to be knocked back, tumbling down the polished hardwood with a thud on the middle landing. Dark maroon leaked its way into her caramel hair, turning to a few dots on the floor then collecting as a small puddle at her husbands feet. He dropped to the ground, his shaking hands hovered over her.

"What did you do?" he screamed. Sam looked at Dean with terrified eyes, looking for reassurance that it wasn't all his fault. He thought he saw it for a second until Dean was only looking at the man clutching his wife's belly. Sam's mouth opened before the realization hit him like a ton of lead, chocking his airways. What did you do? echoing in his head.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Ben and Vivien in the hospital, Sam and Dean babysit Violet while trying to see the full picture of what's going on.

"Why are you still here?" Violet asked as she strode into the kitchen, seeing the two FBI agents sat at the kitchen counter. 

"Your Mom and Dad are at the hospital and you're under eighteen," Dean replied with a sigh. 

"That doesn't mean I need a baby sitter," Violet retorted as she turned back around. 

"Hey, come back here," Sam ordered while maintaining a soft voice. She turned around and lingered in the doorway, her arms crossed and her brows raised. 

"What happened?" He asked. 

"You pushed my Mom down-" 

"I mean the other night," Sam snapped. Silence fell for a few seconds. 

"You read the article." she replied bluntly, both bored and frustrated. She seemed like a typical teenager, reluctant to cooperate with anyone holding authority. But Dean knew there had to be more. Did she bring up the article because that's what happened, or because it's the only rational way to explain what really happened? 

"Yes we did, but we'd still like to hear it from your point of view," Dean said, watching her as she thought. 

"They broke in, tied us up but we managed to get out." 

"That's all that happened?" Sam asked, giving the impression there was more to his question. This is usually where they confess that crucial piece of information they wouldn't expect to find themselves telling a pair of federal agents. Violet searched his eyes before answering. 

"You won't tell my parents, will you?" she asked. 

"Of course not," Sam replied. _I knew it_ , Dean thought as he turned away, hiding his vain smile. 

"Well, it wasn't me who untied myself. This boy, one of my Dad's patients, did it. I don't know what he was doing here. Something seemed..." Her voice trailed off. Dean remembered reading about the boy who was there to save them, though he was referred to as Violet's boyfriend in various articles. Why else would a teenage boy be at their house so late? 

"Whatever. Call me when they get back," she said turning around and bounding upstairs before neither Sam nor Dean could say anything to stop her. After a confused pause Dean slapped his hands on his knees. 

"Well, some thing’s going on here," Dean said, standing up. 

"No bet," Sam said with a breathy laugh. 

"I'm thinking we EMF the place? See where that gets us," Dean said to Sam, who looked lost in thought. 

"Yeah, sure." Sam said, looking out the kitchen window at the figure standing under the shade of a tree, "Dean, see that girl? She's been standing there for at least an hour." 

Dean saw her standing there in her summer dress, even though it was mid fall. She was looking up, her eyes focused on something. Probably Violet, but Dean didn't think that was it. She gave him the creeps so he thought he'd leave that job to Sam. 

"I swear she was saying something to me earlier," Sam mused. 

"Huh?" 

"Well, when I saw her from the upstairs window she stared straight at me and she mouthed something," Sam explained. 

"What'd she say?" 

"I don't know," 

"Well go find out," Dean said, patting his back with a light chuckle. 

Dean went out the front to retrieve his EMF reader from the Impala while Sam exited the house through the kitchen door and strode across the garden. 

 

"Hi, I'm special agent Parsons, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?" Sam said when he met the girl under the tree. She changed her gaze from the house to Sam. 

"This is about the house, isn't it?" She asked in reply. 

"Is there something about the house I should know?" Sam glanced backwards to see what her eyes kept darting to, but there was nothing in any of the windows. 

"People die in there." She answered. Sam couldn't tell if she was stating a fact or giving him a warning. "You feel it too." 

He couldn't deny it and an uncomfortable silence crept between them. Sam didn't know if the wind had stopped blowing or he had just stopped paying attention. He was about to ask her more, feeling that she trusted him when the screech of a woman caught their attention. 

"Adelaide!" The woman called as she came out from the side of the house, hurrying as soon as she caught sight of the pair of them, "There you are, and who's this? You're not one of the new neighbours." 

"I'm special agent Parsons, following up on the home invasion," Sam said, flashing his fake badge. "I assume you're both neighbours." 

"Yes, my daughter and I live across the street," The woman said, placing her hand on her daughter's shoulder, gently pulling her to her side. 

"Could I ask you both some questions, did either of you see what happened?" Sam asked hopefully. 

"I would love to answer your questions, agent, but Addy and I are late and we really need to get going," She said without a hint of sincerity. 

"Well I'll give you my card and you can call whenever you want," Sam took a card from his inside pocket, deliberately handing it to Addy, "even if it doesn't seem important." 

"Thanks, we will," Addy said as she was whisked away by her mother. 

Something was off about that girl's mother. Something was off about that girl. Something was off about everything, each in its own separate way. With a sigh Sam turned back around and ambled back to the house. Maybe Dean was having more luck.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long and that it's so short, I had pretty bad writers' block. The quality and quantity should improve more as I write. Thanks for reading and please review!


End file.
